Will you be my friend?

Last night I had just finished Dear Prudie on Slate's on-line magazine site, nodding appreciatively at the odd occurence of people I was never friends with requesting to be my on-line friend, when I popped on Facebook and . . . . the bully was there.

Really? I mean, you know there's a few steps to it, and you know that new FB home page is a hot mess. So you log in, look at the most recent comments from your plenitude of almost friends, once friends, etc. and then you look at your requests (I delete every single drink, gift, etc.) And there it was, a FB add from a bully.

Granted, he's a bully I haven't seen in well over 20 years. But, I mean, WTF?! Do we have TOTALLY different memories of the '80's? Is there a blip in his now 40 plus mind that thinks for a moment we were FRIENDS? Instead of him being a bully? (and me being obviously the one he bullied?)

After well over 20 years have passed, I really can't remember any specific moment of hazing and harassing. But I also can't remember any specific moment in English class and yet I can remember to speak the language just fine. I know he was mean, and I know he was a bully, and I know we were not friends. Now, not to sound all~9th~grade and all, but, uh, why now, well over 20 years past my graduation date, would I want to reconnect with him?

(Besides the fact that in his profile pic, if he's the one on the left, he's kinda hot in a super redneck way)

OK, let's just take the the worst part of the bully memory away, for the sake of argument. It's still been well over 20 years. He lives in a city three hours away. I mean, what are we supposed to do? Become email pen pals? Puhleeze.

Odd thing is his brother and I were friends. They were so night and day as to make one consider the idea of adoption existing in their family. His brother and I were in the same grade, the brother was fair haired, boy next door type, and a very nice guy who went to the public school with us. Bully had a completely different physical build and attended the private school.

Makes no sense. I've just left it alone. Haven't hit ignore or accept. I think I'm still just too in shock by the oddity of it.

Shrug of the shoulders and a quizzical look on my face.

_______________________________________

Dear Prudie,
Twenty-odd years ago, I was a painfully shy art geek at my small high school, where a group of girls went out of their way to bully me and make my life a living hell. Then I would go home to my alcoholic father, who was physically abusive to me and my mother. After years in therapy, I have since gone on to have a successful career, a group of amazing friends, and a life filled with travel and love and the usual ups and downs. Recently, I found my only friend from high school via social networking and was thrilled to be in touch. That has led to his contacts from high school wanting to connect with me as well. Some of them were part of the gang of cruel girls, which has brought that horrible time back to my consciousness. What is an appropriate response? I don't want to be mean, but I also don't believe that I need to welcome everyone into my life just because I set up an account online.

Dear Bliss,
Hit your networking site's "ignore" button or its equivalent to send your mean classmates off into the deep freeze of the unfriended. The good thing about online social networks is that they can put us back in touch with people from our past. The bad thing about online social networks is that they can put us back in touch with people from our past. Perhaps Herman Melville was anticipating Facebook when he wrote, "The poor old Past, the Future's slave." You may find your online network encouraging you to give the bullies of your poor old past a chance because they've probably reformed, or regret their behavior, or are oblivious about how they treated you. But your present, real-life friendship queue is full, and pretending to cheerily welcome contact from long-ago jerks is only going to stir up unnecessary pain. As Robert Frost, another writer you must have read in high-school English, wrote: "But if it had to perish twice,/ I think I know enough of hate/ To say that for destruction ice/ Is also great/ And would suffice."

—Prudie